


In The Closet

by Scarlet_Nin



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Big Sibling Luther Hargreeves, But tries to be better, Claustrophobia, Fluff and Angst, Gen, He fucks up accidentally, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus steals clothes from all of his siblings and there's a reason for that, Protective Hargreeves Siblings, Team as Family, mentions of the mausoleum, prank gone wrong, they're 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Nin/pseuds/Scarlet_Nin
Summary: It had been an accident. A prank gone wrong. To teach Klaus a lesson about raiding Allison’s closet. Luther would have left him out after two hours. He was teasing when he told him he’d leave him in there for another. Sitting around in the dark didn’t seem like a big deal.But Klaus was crying, whiter than chalk, flinching at every little noise and Luther couldn’t do a thing to comfort him.Because he had been the monster that put him in there.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & The Hargreeves
Comments: 72
Kudos: 1281





	In The Closet

It didn’t make sense to Luther. Boys were meant to be manly. To wear pants and suits and to look proper like their Father wanted them to appear in public. Tidy and neat in their school uniform. Smart young men with shining futures ahead of them, brighter than the sun itself.

But Klaus, ever the odd one, the sore thumb sticking out worse than Vanya in a way vibrant colors in a monochrome painting did upon being provoked, danced out of line. Took a look at Allison’s skirt and wore it when Father was away on business trips or stole her hoodies to wear them around the house like they were his own. Like the pastel shades of pink and violet were meant to be worn on a boy.

Luther found it weird, the way Klaus looked a bit livelier in her clothes. The soft colors breathing life into his skin instead of washing his snow-white pallor further down the drain. Eyes lighting up in delight and steps lighter with a confidence lost to his darting glances around the room. Wary and heavy at the moving Shadows on the walls and at his heels.

Allison’s clothes didn’t look bad on him. Rather the opposite and that should be a problem but as long as nobody forces Luther to wear a skirt or a pastel pink hoodie, he couldn’t care less about what Klaus wore in his free time. The clothes didn’t look too girly because Father would never allow him to stroll around looking like a girl when he was a boy, Luther was sure of that and Klaus had the weird habit of stealing clothes from all of them.

He wore Allison’s clothes the most, but Diego lost oversized shirts, Five the occasional scarf, Ben his sweatpants, Luther his jacket and even Vanya found herself missing an oversized cardigan or sweater. Klaus didn’t seem to mind wearing proper clothes, their uniform or suits and pants. Shoes were an odd thing he liked to take off from time to time but it mellowed out after getting scolded a few times too many.

They all wrote it off as a Klaus thing. Like the occasional whiskey bottle which went missing or the sharp smell of herbs poising his breath. His plate of food untouched after a session of special training with their Father. Jokes so bad they were funny again.

Just Klaus being Klaus.

But thievery couldn’t go unpunished. Allison had come to him, complaining about missing her favorite hoodie and it was high-time Klaus got a taste of his own medicine. His disobeying behavior and teenager rebellion aside, making Allison upset went a step too far. He could have the decency to ask permission first before raiding her closet.

Time-out to rethink his behavior sounded like a good idea. One Five would have approved of.

“Where are we going?”

Luther sighs, headache beginning to form at the endless stream of questions. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

“Ohhh, I like those!” Klaus would have clapped his hands if Luther hadn’t got a grip on his wrist, dragging him through the house. “Wouldn’t have pegged you to be the one to throw me a secret party or something but I’m not complaining.”

“Could have fooled me.” Luther mumbles under his breath.

“Is there going to be cake? Scones? _Booze_?”

“We’re thirteen.” Tightening his hold around Klaus’s boney wrist and giving a warning squeeze, he shakes his head in disappointment.

“Learn to live a little, brother dearest.” Klaus sniffs, nudging him in the side with an elbow. “You don’t wanna end up like Dad, do you?”

“I don’t see why not.” Luther says sharply. Trust Klaus to be annoying. Any guilt he might have felt about what he’s about to do vanishes. Maybe it would be good for his brother. To get whatever he poisoned himself with out of his system.

Klaus scoffs, dragging his feet. “Really? You expect me to believe you wanna end up in some boring stuffy office all day? _You?_ C’mon we both know you’d throw the desk out the window during the first day. You’re all brute force and action. You enjoying such a job is like trying to catch Five, the little cheater, during a game of tag. Hopeless and unimaginable.”

“I nearly got him last time.”

“You ran head first into a tree.” Klaus giggles to himself at the memory. “Much like a bull seeing someone wave a red flag.”

Luther scowls to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Shut up.”

He stops walking in front of one of the old rooms they didn’t have much need for. Walking inside while pulling his brother along he halts in front of one of their lesser used closets, containing their old clothes. Klaus’s brows shoot up to his hairline as he eyes him with wide eyes when Luther rips the door open.

“Are you going to play dress up with me?” Klaus’s face lights up, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “Oh boy, that’s going to be so much fun! We should get Allison too. She’ll love helping you get a new look and she knows her way around fashion as much as little old me! Or did you get me because you want to surprise her with this? I’m so touched you thought of me to help you out—”

Luther tugs him forward by his wrist, all but throwing him into the big closet. Klaus stumbles forward, tripping over himself and into one of the old coats Reginald put in there, yelping at the rough treatment.

“Since you love raiding our closets so much you can spend some time in there and rethink your own behavior. Thievery is unacceptable for a hero.”

Using the same tone, he’s perfected for missions, he closes the door in Klaus’s wide-eyed face and locks it. It rattles once when Klaus throws himself against the door with his body to force it to open.

“Hey!” Klaus pounds on the wood, humor gone from his voice. “Let me out—Luther! You can’t do this to me. This isn’t funny!”

“Neither is stealing Allison’s clothes or Dad’s whiskey.” Luther snaps back in frustration at the waver in Klaus’s voice. “Don’t be a baby. You’re behaving like a brat all the time, so it’s high-time someone put you on timeout like one. I’m going to come back in a few hours and hopefully you’ll have learnt your lessons then.”

“No! Come on, I didn’t mean—she can have her stuff back. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again, I promise. Just…Just let me out!”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Luther slams his fist on the wood, jostling the whole closet. Klaus’s yelling won’t attract any attention because they’re far away from their set of bedrooms. The advantage of a house having 48 rooms was you could always find a place for peace and quiet. Even Grace would have a hard time hearing him if she wasn’t walking through these abandoned hallways near Dad’s office.

“Fuck you!” The heat of the shout takes him by surprise but it soon turns into sniffling. “No, no, no. I didn’t mean it, Luther. I didn’t. Open the door. Please.”

Steeling himself against the desperate voice of his brother, Luther takes a step back. Allison’s glassy eyes, the upset twist of her lips as she realized her favorite hoodie from Mom wasn’t in her closet a few days ago flashing across his mind.

As a leader it was his responsibility to make sure his siblings got along, to reward good behavior and to scold them for not meeting the expectation their Father set.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Luther turns around to walk away, ignoring the yelling, near screaming from inside the closet. The pleading and cursing. A child throwing a temper tantrum for not getting his way. But he didn’t linger in the hallway, didn’t let himself be swayed despite the heaviness in his chest.

This was as much for Klaus’s benefit as it was for the rest of them. He would stop stealing or borrowing their clothes, wouldn’t get himself into trouble again with Dad for stealing what he shouldn’t even think about touching. Let alone drink or smoke.

The dark wasn’t scary enough to warrant screaming in fear. Klaus was just exaggerating. Always making a big deal out of small things for attention.

Some quiet time would be good for him.

* * *

Days without Reginald were an all-time favorite in the house for most of his siblings. They got snacks and free time. Grace’s cookies and extra desserts she wouldn’t give out under the watchful eye of their Father, were mouthwatering. Her peanut butter sandwich Five and Vanya were so fond of tasting better with idle chatter filling the living room rather than the suffocating silence of the kitchen.

They felt like a family. A real one for just a moment.

Until Ben asked a question Luther had forgotten about. Too caught up in the comfortable closeness and Allison sitting next to him on the couch.

“Where’s Klaus?”

The room went silent as they looked at each other.

Allison and Luther shared a glance and Five caught them. Narrowing his eyes, he closed his book with a sharp snap after setting a bookmark in place.

“I’ll go get him.” He flexes his fingers, blue light shimmering underneath his skin. “It’s been far too quiet anyway. I was wondering why I got so far in my book.”

“He should eat something.” Vanya agrees solemnly.

“Wait,” Allison blurts out because if Five went to look for Klaus now and showed up to an empty room he’d be annoyed at having wasted a jump on nothing. Getting on Five’s hitlist wasn’t an achievement she ever wanted to add on her résumé.

“He’s not in his room.”

Five purses his lips. “And how would you know that?”

“Because…” Her eyes flicker to Luther, who nods in encouragement. Five hates liars and not getting the information he wants and it was time to let Klaus out of the closet anyway. “Because Luther and me are pranking him.”

Diego frowns. “A prank?” The disbelief in his voice is directed at Luther, who scowls.

Allison perks up at the interest on their faces, smiling in amusement. “Klaus’s always snatching things out of my closet, yours too, isn’t he? So, we thought if he takes such a joy out of getting our stuff out of the closet, he can spend a bit of time inside of it.” She snorts at her choice of words.

“You…you locked our brother into a closet?” Vanya asks aghast, eyes wide in shock.

Luther’s eyes dart towards the clock and he sighs. “It’s just a dark room. Really, sitting in there for two hours can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah,” Allison chimes in with a grin. “I mean the worst of it for Klaus would be that he can’t chatter our ears off and has to listen to his own voice and you know how much he loves listening to himself.”

Vanya blinks, the horrified incredulity fading a bit at her reasoning. She nods slowly, more a hesitant of drop her head, so she doesn’t have to meet their eyes. Her hands are fisted in her skirt.

“Klaus doesn’t like the dark.” Ben cuts in, brows furrowed.

“It’s fine. I was just about to get him.” Luther rises from his seat and to his surprise the rest of his siblings stand as well. “You know, he’s pranked us countless times before.”

“Yeah, but his jokes are usually a bit more tasteful.” Five says with a roll of his eyes. “What’s so funny about pushing him into a closet and leaving him there?”

_Are you an idiot?_ His voice implies though his eyes are taunting him, a knowing smirk laying on his lips that said. _Right. Rhetorical questions are rude. Of course, you’re an idiot._

Luther bristles at the flush crawls up his neck. Five had the talent of standing taller than any of them despite being one of the shortest. Arrogant and cocky and so full of himself Luther wonders why hasn’t exploded yet. Though, the match was struck if the argument about time-travel with their Father meant something.

“He’s probably been singing himself deaf all this time. Got himself bundled up in some of Dad’s coats or something and took a nap while whistling the newest Pop song we heard in passing.”

Diego’s lips quirk up at the image and Vanya laughs. Short and brief but full of honest mirth.

Luther stops in front of the door to an old study, opening the door without making a noise. They shuffle into the room slowly, making faces at the silence. He shrugs at the skeptical glance Five throws his way as if to ask him if he’s sure he hasn’t gotten the wrong room by accident because the Klaus they knew couldn’t shut up for more than ten minutes expect during breakfast.

It _is_ a little weird but maybe their little lesson had paid off. Or Klaus had fallen asleep like Diego suggested.

Allison raises her hand to rap her knuckles on the wood. “You in there, Klaus?” She teases, muffling a little giggle behind her hand.

No reply.

Her smile turns into a concerned frown. “Klaus?” She uses the back of her fist to knock against the wooden doors and there’s an audible sharp intake of breath from the closet.

“…Allison?”

Five straightens up at the quiet mumble nearly muffled by the wood.

“Yeah?” She pitches her voice higher at the end, leaning in closer. Nails racking down the door, she leans against it, inspecting the nails of her other hand.

A pause. “You have to get me out.” The words are spoken in a rush, fast enough to make her think he’s bit his own tongue trying to force them out.

“I don’t know, Klaus.” She says with a huff. “Have you learnt your lesson?”

Another pause, this time longer and heavier. Vanya’s mirth falls away, her brows pinching as she shifts on her feet. Ben is biting his lips raw and Diego uncrosses his arms, inching closer to the door.

“Yes,” Klaus says with such conviction Allison would have believed him if she didn’t know him to be such a good liar. He’s almost as good at playing his words like she is when he wants to be, just without the power to bend reality to make her wish reality.

“Yes, I swear—I’m…I’m going to be good. I learnt my lesson.”

He laughs, a short burst of mirthless air choking through the stifling space before it cuts off as abruptly as it came. A chill runs down Ben’s spine, stomach twisting.

Something was wrong.

But Allison doesn’t seem to notice. “Did you now?” She pushes herself off the door, shushing them with a finger to her lips to keep quiet.

“Yes!”

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head, curls bouncing in the movement. “Sorry!” She sing-songs in a mocking parody of his voice. “I don’t think me and Luther believe you.”

“…no, we don’t.” Luther follows her script, clearing his throat. Watching Allison stifle her chuckling behind her hands, he makes sure to keep his voice even.

“We’ll come back in another hour.”

Allison mimics their footsteps without moving from her spot, waiting for a reaction.

A scream tears through the wood. Loud and full of fear. They flinch at the tortured sound of screaming—of _Klaus_ screaming his throat raw. Screaming like he’s being murdered behind the doors as Allison flings herself away from the closet like her ear drums shattered, eyes wide and startled.

“No, no, no!” The startling silence left in the wake of the raw noise of fear wrung from Klaus’s lungs is filling with the sound of scratching. “Let me out! I—I can’t. Please, let me out, Dad! I’m not afraid anymore! Please, please, please—"

Pure shameless begging. Their little brother was begging for his life, crying and wheezing and Luther stands paralyzed in front of the door with a shaking Allison in his arms.

_What?_

“—please, please! I’ll do better, I’m not afraid anymore. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Not another three hours. _Please_ —"

Five hands shoot out towards the door, changing direction in the last second to grasp onto Luther’s forearm, nails digging into his skin harshly. “Give me the key!”

It doesn’t sound like Five. Wild and skittish like a cornered animal baring its teeth to get to their young without an ounce of the control his brother used to hold over their heads. But the screaming doesn’t sound like Klaus either, so Luther jerks upright, letting go off Allison to forego the key and push a stammering Diego away from the door to rip it open.

Klaus falls forward like a puppet with cut strings, curling into himself and shaking like a leaf.

Ben rushes forward, hand reaching out to check, to make sure he’s okay, to see if he’s breathing when all his brother does is struggle for air like a drowning man. The moment Ben’s hand touches Klaus’s back their brother flinches away, a keening noise ripping out past his lips. He backs up until his head knocks into the wall hard enough to bruise, legs pulled close to his chest.

Vanya is crying, staring with wide fearful eyes at the sight of their brother cowering in the room. “Oh god.”

She sounds close to throwing up.

Luther isn’t far behind.

Klaus is crying, skin whiter than chalk and shaking so bad he could be having a seizure. Eyes darting across the room, unseeing and full blown in horror. His fingers are bloody, tips torn in his attempt to pry the door open from inside—

It’s his fault. Luther’s to blame for the way his brother—his little baby brother—is rocking back and forth, trying so hard to melt into the wall, looking so small Luther fears he’ll crush his skull open the next time he flinches back into the unforgiving cold wall of concrete behind him.

Diego is stuttering so bad he can’t get the words out, for once not wiping at his wet eyes as he crouches near their brother, careful to keep his distance.

“I…I’m here…” He chokes out. “…Klaus…Klaus we—”

“I’m sorry!“ Allison bursts out, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I didn’t know—he’s…he should have been fine. It was just a prank!” She falls to her knees like she wants to beg for forgiveness, hugging herself as she cries.

“Breath.” Five pushes through the small forming crowd, shoving her aside to make room. “You need to _breath_ , Klaus.”

Diego starts to mimic breathing in exaggerated noises, Vanya following soon when she notices the shaking lessen just the tiniest bit.

“Good,” Five says as soft as he can when his hands are itching to reach out to shake his brother back to his sense. He’s the closest, kneeling on the carpet with his hands held out in front of him.

“Just breath. Don’t think about anything else right now. Just breath with us.”

Luther watches, heart beating furious and fast as he braces himself on the wall. Eyes stuck on his little brother, at the mess he made with his own two hands.

“I—” Allison chokes out through her quiet sobs when Klaus breath starts hitching, lips smeared with blood like his hands— “I heard a rumor that you’d calm down!”

Nothing happens.

Allison repeats the words like she can will them into existence until Five snaps at her to shut up. “He can’t hear you!”

“I’m trying to help him!” She shouts back grabbing fistfuls of her hair and pulls. “I want to help him!”

Ben interrupts before Five can spit out the acid laying on his tongue judging from the vicious glare on his panicked face. “Stop shouting at each other! You’re making it worse!”

Klaus chokes on a sob, hands pressed tightly against his ears. Five curses lowly as Allison flinches, regret flickering across her face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“No, no—” Ben soothes gently, waving a hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for Klaus. Nothing at all.”

“I need to get him to Mom.” Five rises to his feet, stumbling forward to reach for Klaus but Ben tugs him back with a fistful of his shirt. He glares over his shoulder, bearing down on Ben in his fury.

“What?” Five glowers, fists clenching at his sides. “We can’t get him to calm down. He’ll hurt himself more than he already did if we don’t do something! Mom knows what to do, so I’ll grab him and jump to her—”

“You can’t jump now.” Vanya startles when his eyes turn to her, lips quivering. “You’re not in control of yourself. You could end up hurting yourself and him.”

“Got a better idea?” He snaps, lips curling into a sneer.

Vanya pushes out her shoulders, nodding viciously. “I’ll get Mom.” And she turns to leave, rushing towards the door, shoulder bumping into the doorway.

“You said Dad.”

Five’s head snaps up when Luther speaks. “What?”

“Klaus,” Who flinches at his name, blinking furiously, his cheeks glistering with tears. Luther can’t keep the horror out of his voice, festering in his veins and poisoning his blood.

“He asked Dad to let him out.”

_Out of what?_ He doesn’t know. He didn’t know Reginald ever locked him up to begin with and a part of himself, the little boy preening and starving for his Father’s approval, wants to call Klaus a liar. He wants to keep the faith in his Father because what sort of monster would lock their child away? Little Klaus with the biggest mouth and eyes, thin and looking like a breeze might knock him over—

But Luther was no better, was he? So, what if he didn’t know? He’d ignored his brother, his calls, the way his voice wavered, bordering on hysterical to be let out and walked out. Left him to whatever memories or flashbacks plagued him until he went mad.

Klaus didn’t lie. Luther doesn’t think he’s seen him so scared before, so close to breaking he might have already been broken and it’s his fault. Because he put him in the closet and left him there for hours on end.

For a stolen bottle of whiskey and a handful of clothes.

Five’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding together and he turns back to look at Klaus with a pinched face.

“Klaus,”

He whispers, leaning closer as if he’s about to share a secret. Gentler than he’d thought Five capable off, he reaches out to lay a hand over his brother’s, prying it away from his ear to get him to listen. All while ignoring his flinch, the untrusting eyes looking right past his own.

“You’re not wherever you think you are.” A whimper. “But you need to tell where you are, so that I…” Five hesitates, a rarity of its own but pushes on with urgency.

“So, that I can get you out.”

Klaus blinks, gaze falling to meet Five’s. “Out?”

“Yeah,” Five’s stiff shoulders relax with relief. “I’ll get you out, but I need to know where you are to come and get you.”

“I can’t.” Klaus sobs, voice raspy from screaming himself raw. Ben winces in sympathy, hands pressed tightly across his stomach.

_I can’t._ Not a I won’t and Luther’s fingers itch to break something.

“Of course, you can.” Five reassures him firmly. “You can tell me anything.”

“No, no. Dad—he…I—”

“Fuck Dad!” Five hisses out, eyes flashing in fury and his grip around Klaus’s hand tightens. “Jesus, you need to tell me where you are. Where are you that Dad doesn’t want us to know about?”

Ben makes a noise in his throat. “Five, maybe you should—”

“I need a location now, Klaus.” He looms in closer and Klaus’s breath hitches, eyes growing wide and Luther’s feet move before his mind can catch up. Muscle memory taking over.

Klaus shoves Five away with a shaking arm, stumbling to his feet and running towards the door and Luther nearly catches him but he twists away in his panic, shouldering past Allison who gets knocked to the floor with a yelp.

“Fuck!” Five shouts giving chase leaving Allison in the room as Ben follows him, Luther taking up the rear. He’s never been the fastest and they see Klaus twist around a corner, fear fueling his legs to run without a destination in mind.

Ben keeps calling out, asking him to slow down and that everything’s okay but he freezes in his tracks when Five flashes forward as they round the corner, more of a glitching blue than a true jump and Klaus crashes into him, arms flailing.

Five gets a slap to the face, the force sending him to the floor as Klaus twists at the top of the stairs and falls.

Body tumbling down the stairs until his head cracks open against the floor.

Vanya screams at the bottom of the stairs.

Luther’s ears won’t ever stop ringing.

* * *

A concussion. Stiches. Possible amnesia.

But alive.

Luther couldn’t ask for more. Doubts anyone in the crowded infirmary room would dare to disagree. Not even Diego, who Grace had to calm down for half an hour after she’s finished getting Klaus hooked up to an IV in the infirmary, blood fresh on her hands and Klaus’s skull, would dare to start a fight on principle now.

There had been so much blood. Forming a puddle too fast, too big, they thought Klaus would bleed dry in a handful of minutes.

“I’m going to take the door off my closet.” Allison says, clinging to the pale hand in her grasp like it’s her lifeline. Her apologies and attempts to persuade their brother into wakefulness had trailed off into silence an hour ago.

“So…so he can choose whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. Without having to, to lean inside and look.”

She tucks a stray curl of his behind an ear, fingers trembling. Her touch lingers, brushing her thumb across his cheek.

“I didn’t mind.” Vanya, who hasn’t stopped staring at their brother lying deadly still on the infirmary bed, hugs her legs to her chest, curled up on a chair next to him. When she looks up to see the confused glances she elaborates.

“The clothes he borrowed from me. It didn’t bother me. I found it…weird and I didn’t get why he’d do it but…but I didn’t mind it.”

_Not like you_ her words seem to imply, accuse and Allison shrinks into herself in front of them like a wilting flower during winter.

“The colors.” Diego says, sitting in the chair next to Vanya’s, voice hollow. “I asked him once when he came sneaking into my bedroom in the morning an hour before breakfast why he wanted to borrow one of my shirts and he told me the colors were nice.”

Allison nods. “He told me that too.”

“Right.” Diego’s fingers ball into fists in his lap. “But the shirt was white.”

Luther is taken aback. “What?”

“Boring. Plain. Just a white old shirt of mine and not something I’d see him wearing for fun or without being prompted too. But out of all the shirts he’d chosen that one, sprouting bullshit about different colors of white and how it would make his pants pop out and what a nice shirt it was. How I could dare to question his choices when I’d been eyeing the leather section of one of Allison’s magazines, which I did not.”

“It’s not about the colors,” Ben mumbles trying to squeeze warmth back into Klaus’s hand. “Not at all.”

Vanya uncurls from herself a little. “What do you mean?”

Ben hesitates, biting at his lips in clear aversion of sharing information and it’s fair. Figuratively they’d pushed Klaus down the stairs and didn’t deserve any less than harsh silence for shoving him when they should have caught him instead. If Klaus wasn’t awake to do so then the role of punisher would fall to Ben, who tried to get them to help instead of harm however unknowing they had done so and they’d ignored his advice.

Quiet and shy Ben, who only wanted the best for them and couldn’t stay silent even if it meant betraying some unspoken trust between their numbers. If he could help, he’d do so within a heartbeat without caring for the repercussions.

“I think he was high when he told me or…or drunk. Doesn’t matter,” He narrows his eyes to enforce silence to hear him out instead of jumping on the chance to point out their brother’s self-destructive behavior.

“I asked him a few times and got a few different answers. But when I told him he could have it, it’s just a sweatshirt I’d worn twice because it was a size too big for me, he refused. I found it odd. If he liked it so much, he was willing to sneak around to get it then why not take it as a gift and leave it at that? When I pointed it out to him, he got all quiet. Like…like he was ashamed or embarrassed, I don’t know.”

“Embarrassed?” Diego frowns because Klaus didn’t know the meaning of the word. He’s worn Mom’s high heels around the house after all. “Really?”

Ben swallows, lowering his head. “I dunno. But we all do things that leave marks on our clothing. Five drinks coffee when he thinks Father won’t find out and Vanya regularly polishes her violin with that polishing wax. Diego does the same to his knives and he hangs out a lot around Mom in the kitchen.”

“Ben, what are you trying to tell us?” Allison asks, dread pulling down the corners of her mouth.

“Your clothing is soft and you wear that floral perfume on every single piece of clothing you own.”

“ _Ben_.”

“It’s comforting, you know,” Ben sucks in a breath. “For him. To wear something that reminds him of us after…after special training with Father. The dead…they don’t look nice and sometimes he thinks he can smell the blood; the rotten flesh and he knows it’s not real but it helps him calm down.”

He shudders, leaving a horrified silence in his wake.

“Well, at least you won’t have to worry about him raiding your closet anymore. After this little incident I doubt he’d approach it within ten meters.”

Five looks up from his notebook, pen held tight in his right hand and with the white-knuckled grip he’s got on it, it’s a wonder it hasn’t broken clean in half. His eyes are dark, burning into Allison who whimpers at his words like she’s been slapped across the face.

Luther bristles but it lacks any real heat with the guilt chilling his bones. “Hey—”

“Isn’t that nice? You got what you wanted.” Five snarls, anger thick in his voice as he gestures to Klaus. “Your lesson was successful, Number One. Dad will surely be around to ask for pointers on where to lock him up next.”

“Low blow.” Ben throws over his shoulder at Five.

“Dad won’t lock him up.” Not under Luther’s watch.

“Really?” Diego asks in disbelief, face twisting with righteous fury as he stands up, chair scooting back and nearly toppling over if it wasn’t for Vanya reaching out to steady it.

“You’re still defending the asshole? After all of this?”

“No!”

Luther can’t breathe past the fierce sting of heat boiling underneath his skin. He loves his Father but no matter what they might think, his love for his siblings extends to all of them, not just Allison. The thought of Reginald doing anything to leave permanent damage, to break them into so many pieces not even Mom can glue them back together has his vision bleed red.

“Dad won’t lock him back up because I won’t let him! If he wants to get to him, to any of you from now on he’ll have to get through me first!”

Even if it meant punishment or disapproval. Luther would bear it all if it meant they’d stop looking at him like a monster.

Five schools his expression into a blank mask. “Even so, we don’t know where he’s been locked up until now. For…for _special training_.”

He spits the words out like they’re bad food and his eyes stray to Ben.

Ben, who looks pale in the dim-lights of the infirmary, a thoughtful crease in between his brows.

“Somewhere outside of the house.” He says immediately, gaze stuck on Klaus’s sleeping face. On the puffy eyes and blood coated lips, dry and chapped. “Special training always involves our powers.”

His line of thought grows wary, slower as he lets his mind wander.

“Somewhere,”

His eyes grow wide, filling with tears and all the healthy color in his skin drains out of his face. A rumble echoes across the room and he wraps his free arm around his stomach as his breath quickens.

“—with a lot of ghosts.” His voice cracks painfully, heart in his throat as he lays his head down near Klaus’s hand, mindful of the IV.

“Bastard.” Five’s notebook goes flying against the wall. “Fucking son of a bitch!”

Luther’s mind is empty with terror. “He wouldn’t—”

Not with their little brother. Their Dad wouldn’t go so far, wouldn’t keep doing it when he sees it does more harm than good. Klaus was terrified of his ability, of the ghosts. So genuine afraid of them he slept with nightlights on and would flinch at invisible air at least once when kept in a room for too long.

Reginald wouldn’t, couldn’t cross such an obvious line.

“Wouldn’t what?” Five jumps across the room, fisting his collar and shaking him like a ragdoll. All bared teeth and eyes full of wrath.

“Wouldn’t stuff our brother into a coffin in the middle of a graveyard to force him into using his powers? To get him over his fear with the shittiest attempt of exposure therapy known to the world? He wouldn’t leave him there for hours while we were having breakfast wondering where he is but too afraid, no, to disinterested to ask where he’s been?”

And it’s Vanya who speaks through the fog in Luther’s mind, through the roaring gust of a hurricane that is Five’s fury, with a certain grimness to her voice leaving no room for arguments.

“He would.” Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright and fierce instead of meek. “He would.” She repeats, a sob catching in her throat.

“Jesus, Luther,” Five spits out, cooling at the sight of Vanya’s tears and Ben’s shaking shoulders. He pushes him away, letting go of his collar. “Grow the fuck up and accept the truth.”

A groan startles them and Luther blinks. In one second to the next Five is standing next to Klaus’s bed, peering down at him with barely hidden concern. All at once, they crowd around the bed forming a circle.

“The fuck?” Klaus’s squints at the faces over him. “Was Five about to throw hands with Luther of all people or was that just a really weird dream?”

Nobody answers.

“Christ, my head hurts.” He whines, squeezing his eyes shut before blinking them open again. There’s a glassiness to his eyes speaking of the pain killers Grace has him on and they focus on the blood staining Diego’s shoulders, where Grace had put her hands to guide him out of a panic attack.

His muscles grow stiff at the sight of it. Hear monitor picking up its beat.

“Hey, no, no.” Ben squeezes Klaus’s hand before letting go to pull Diego closer, forcing them to touch by taking Diego’s hand to put it over Klaus’s.

“Diego’s here. He isn’t—he isn’t a _ghost_ , Klaus. I promise. We can see him, alright? Here, you can touch him too, feel his pulse? Diego isn’t dead.”

Klaus lets out a shuddering breath he didn’t seem aware to be holding, melting into the bed.

“I’m not dead.” Diego echoes, the words bitter on his tongue. “Promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

And instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, Diego curls his pinky finger around Klaus’s, not minding the childish gesture. “Yeah.”

“Good. Cool.” Klaus mumbles with a hesitant smile. “Neat.” He looks at the IV dripping clear fluid into his system looking like a deer in front of a car. The bandages around his head make his hair unruly to the point of messy, highlighting the ashen pallor of his skin.

He looks lost. Confused like the child he is and Luther can’t stop the words from spilling out as if it’s the last chance he gets to voice them.

“I’m sorry.”

“Woah, what?” Klaus’s head snaps towards him, brows shooting to his hairline. “Did I hear that right, big guy?”

The incredulity of Luther apologizing to him like it’s a hard concept to grasp for him—similar to Five trying to explain a difficult mathematical equation from one of his books on advanced calculation—is making Luther’s eyes sting.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats himself as Klaus looks at him like he’s never seen him before. Just when Luther had shoved him into the closet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Holy shit, are you crying?”

“Me too.” Allison sniffles, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Klaus.”

“I…what?” Klaus glances between them, unsure why they’re crying and panicking over the visible show of tears. He pushes himself up on his pillows, wriggling and turning to Allison to squeeze her hand.

“It’s fine.” He says gently, pulling their joined hands up to press a kiss to her hand. “I…I forgive you, okay? Whatever the fuck for, but it’s okay. I’m not mad or upset or anything. So, please stop crying, Ally.”

Allison chokes on a sob, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry.”

_I’m sorry for locking you into a closet, for not being there when Dad locked you up. I’m sorry that you fell down the stairs by trying to get away from us. I’m sorry._

Luther can hear her thoughts as clear as a day. Throat constricting in the face of his brother’s kindness and worry he doesn’t deserve. He deserves a punch, a blackeye, to be shoved down the stairs to see how it feels, deserves every last bit of vicious anger Klaus would scream in his face.

But seeing him worry, clumsily patting Allison’s hair to get her to calm down, hits him harder than any outburst of rage would have been.

Shame burns in his lungs, suffocating him and he’ll have to live with that guilt until he dies. Of disappointing someone who looks at him with the concern and love of a sibling.

“Do you know what happened?”

It’s Five who asks. Quiet and serious but not unkind.

Klaus shakes his head. “Did I…Did I fall down the stairs again?”

Slowly, Five nods.

“Oh.” After a short pause. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

“Don’t apologize!” Ben bursts out, cheeks flushing at seeing most of them jump. “Sorry. Just…don’t apologize, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Well,” Klaus snorts, a nervous sound as he looks up at the IV bags. “I hope not. Throwing myself down the stairs isn’t my idea of a good time. Even if the drugs Mom gives us are the good stuff.”

Vanya chokes around a sob and he falls silent.

“Not funny, dude.” Ben sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. Klaus sinks into his pillows.

“Klaus,”

Five’s tone is all business and it catches the attention of the room with ease. He sits down on the bed, body twisted towards the figure lying in it. There’s an air of hesitancy lingering in the air, a split second of Five steeling himself before pushing on.

“I have a question I’d like to ask.”

If Klaus finds it strange that Five doesn’t demand answers without having second-thoughts of stepping on an invisible land-mind, he doesn’t point it out. “Okay?”

“You…you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

_No matter how much I want the answer_ is written across Five’s face as bold as if someone took a sharpie and wrote them in neon letters onto his forehead.

“Ask away, brother dear.” Klaus grins shakily, nodding in encouragement, winking. “Is this about something inappropriate? Oh, I’m gonna share so many dirty little secrets with you—”

“Where does Dad take you for special training?”

Klaus’s mouth snaps shut, grin falling away. The heart monitor next to them starts going off, an uproar screaming of deep-rooted fear.

Five backtracks faster than he could’ve teleported away. “Forget it!”

“Remember, you don’t have to answer.” Ben says firmly, eyes soft and Klaus nods shakily.

“Right.” He shakes his head. “Rain check.” The heart monitor slows down. “I’ll pass on the million-dollar question.”

Five looks like he’s bitten onto a lemon but doesn’t push. The growling of Ben’s stomach is a warning of its own.

Klaus’s reaction was all the answer they’d need.

“Is somebody going to tell me what happened?”

Luther’s first reaction is to refuse. Swept the truth under the rug and hope the memories won’t come back. If Klaus didn’t remember what happened, that Luther had been the one to cause such a mental breakdown, to lock him up then he’d never have to face the consequences. Klaus would continue to look him in the eyes with a mischievous grin, joking and chattering his ears off until he’d grow weary of his voice. All it would bring up were tears, mistrust and hurt. Klaus was better off without knowing but…

That wouldn’t be fair. To run away from his problems and choices and call out Klaus for doing the same with his drugs.

“Okay.”

Allison flinches, staring at him in betrayal, mascara smudged and eyes swollen red.

“Luther—"

“He needs to know.”

“But…but—”

“Don’t be selfish.”

Allison gapes but deflates with a nod. “Okay,” She echoes half-heartedly. “We’ll tell you but you need to know I—we won’t do it again. Wouldn’t have done it if we’d known. I swear it. I’ll rumor us to never do it again if you want me to.”

“…what’s going on?” Klaus asks in alarm, noting how none of his siblings will meet his eyes.

“You’re acting like you pushed me down the stairs! Which you didn’t, right? That has to be an accident. You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t have pushed me down the stairs!”

“We didn’t exactly push you.” She squeezes his hand tightly until he winces and she softens her sweaty grip. “I’ll tell you, but…promise me to listen until the end, okay?”

“…fine. Just…just start telling me what’s got your panties in a twist.”

For the first time in her life Allison doesn’t think about rumoring him to forget about anything, to try to twist the situation into a better light. She tells him about being upset over her clothes, voice catching when she describes planning with Luther to prank him. Luther fills in the blank spots, how he’d pushed him into the closet and walked away with a lock on the door with a miserable frown on his face, eyes lowered to the sheets. She tells him every ugly detail without bothering to lie and true to his word, Klaus doesn’t interrupt her once until she finishes her story with another apology, tears spilling fresh over her cheeks.

Klaus, who always has something to say, is silent.

“Get out.”

She feels her heart stop. “…what?”

“I’m tired.” Klaus says, pulling his hand away from hers, tugging the blankets up to his neck. “My head hurts and looking at you makes it worse.”

“Oh.” She chokes out, stumbling to her feet. “Okay. Get…get some rest.”

She grabs Luther’s wrist, eyes blurry with tears and tugs him towards the door. She halts at the threshold, turning to look over her shoulder.

“I love you.” She doesn’t care if he never looks at her again but he needs to know that.

His silence tears into her heart and she doesn’t hear him telling Vanya it’s okay to stay if she wants to if she’s up to watch him sleep and bore herself to death, because she rushes out the door and up the stairs to sob into her pillow.

The bed sinks with Luther’s weight as he rubs her back.

She doesn’t need to raise her head from the black smudges on her pillow to know he’s crying too.

* * *

Allison sprays nearly her whole perfume bottle onto her favorite hoodie, the soft pastel lavender one she’s bought to sleep in a month ago for the colder days in winter. She sneaks into Klaus’s room and leaves it on his bed with a little note she presses a kiss to with lipstick stolen from Grace.

And waits. For a sign, to hear his footsteps approach her room, to see him in the kitchen.

But he doesn’t want to see her.

Allison can’t blame him for that, because if their roles were reversed, she wouldn’t want to see herself either. She doesn’t now, can’t glance her reflection in the mirror without cringing away in disgust.

She deserves the silent treatment, the cold shoulder but she hates it like she hates herself nowadays.

Luther doesn’t fare any better. Diego won’t stop glaring at him whenever Pogo says its time for training, doesn’t pull his punches when they spar even though Luther does nothing but dodge for the most part.

Vanya’s music fills the house, sad but consistent. An attempt to banish the silence of the halls with her violin.

It doesn’t work. But she can’t blame her sister for trying.

* * *

There’s a knock at her door the day after Mom told them Klaus was allowed to leave the infirmary and, in her hurry to sit up, nearly gets her legs tangled into the blanket and crashes to the floor.

“Come in!” She calls out, praying it isn’t someone else.

The door opens slowly and Klaus shuffles into the room, leaving the door wide open.

But he’s wearing her hoodie and her heart rises to a new high at the sight of him in her clothes.

“Hey.” She greets, twirling a lock of her hair, sitting on the bed.

“Can you…” He wets his lips, sucking in a breath before exhaling it harshly. The bandages around his head are still there despite Mom reassuring them his wound is healing nicely.

She waits patiently for him to get his words out, mindful of the headache he must be sprouting now that Mom made it clear he won’t get more pain killers and that drinking alcohol right now could prove fatal in his recovery.

“Can you get Luther?”

“Okay,” She rises to her feet, not questioning why he doesn’t do it himself with his brother right next door to her. “I’ll go get him. You can make yourself comfortable here. I’ll leave the door open.”

He moves out of the way when she walks past him, inching towards her bed.

She returns a minute later with Luther at her heels, moving away from the door to her desk so that Klaus can leave whenever he wants to. She forces Luther to sit down on the chair and leans against her desk.

“You look like shit.” Klaus says, fiddling with the strings of her hoodie.

“I know.” Her hair is greasy, her clothes are disheveled and she barely sleeps anymore. “I feel like it too.”

Klaus’s shoulders hunch forward, eyes rising from the floor to look into her face. She tries to smile but it feels fake on her face, crooked and too small for it to look convincing. But she tries.

She can’t do anything more than try.

“I wasn’t angry.” Klaus admits, crossing one leg over the other. Her grip on Luther’s shoulder turns bruising at his words, feeling the muscles underneath her palm go rigid.

“You weren’t?”

“No, it’s just…it hurt, y’know?” Face falling all Allison sees in his eyes is resignation and exhaustion. “I was disappointed too, I guess.”

Luther shrinks under the words like it was Reginald who had spoken them. “I’m sorry.”

Klaus makes a face, dismissing the apology with a hand.

“I get it. You didn’t know I would freak out like that, so it’s all good.”

“No, it isn’t.” Allison can’t believe what she’s hearing. “You didn’t freak out; you were having a full-blown panic attack! One we were the cause of and you’re trying to—”

“To what?” Klaus snaps, lips curling into a bitter smile. “To move on? To get over this childish little fear of mine? You would have been fine if it had been you and I was a mess. Crying and all that shit, but I…I miss you, Allison, and it was an accident because you didn’t know how I would react. Right?”

It’s Luther who answers, horrified at the implications. “Of course, it was an accident! I would never—I swear if I had known I wouldn’t have thought about doing that to you, Klaus.”

“See?” He inclines his head towards Luther, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His gaze drifts towards her door, flickering to the corner of her room before meeting hers.

“We’re fine. You’re sorry and you won’t do it again.”

“We won’t.” She repeats firmly, shaking Luther’s shoulder to get him to nod. “Dad won’t either.”

Klaus flinches, breath catching in his throat. “What?”

“It’s not a childish fear,” She continues, putting her hands on her hips. “Not if it scares you like this. We won’t stand for Dad locking you away.”

Luther’s hands tighten on the arms of her chair, wood creaking under his grip.

“If Dad wants to lock you away, he’ll have to go through me first.”

Klaus stares at them like he’s seeing them for the first time. Mouth opening and closing without words spilling out.

It makes Allison feel powerful, like she’s doing the right thing in standing up for him after Dad’s done nothing but to push him down.

“I’ll rumor him,” She promises, walking towards the bed and holds out her pinky finger. “I’ll rumor him so he’ll stop with your special training if I have to.”

“You’d do that for…for me?”

It hurts. The way her brother’s voice breaks, hopeful and in awe not of her power, but her willingness to use it to protect him.

“Yes, I will. I’ll use it for any of you if you’ll let me.”

Klaus throws himself into her arms, boney but so, so warm and she wraps her arms around him and squeezes. He splutters, strands of her hair in his mouth and she doesn’t find it gross. She holds on tight like she’s afraid the ghosts she cannot see will snatch him away and nuzzles into his neck, the smell of her perfume and antiseptic clinging to his skin soothing an itch she hadn’t been able to scratch.

“Thank you,” He whispers into her hair, shaky and grateful. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for something like this.” She runs her fingers through his curls, tugging apart knots and hears Luther come closer. “We’re family.”

Luther joins the hug, awkward but fierce with his strength and she can see Ben and Vanya peeking into her room, wearing matching smiles on their faces and gives them a grin.

They aren’t okay but they will be. With time and patience and trust, they’ll make it work.

Because that’s what family is for and it’s high-time they acted like one.

**Author's Note:**

> An additional scene that didn't make it.
> 
> Reginald: Number Four needs some special training.
> 
> Five: You need someone to beat some brain cells into you, oh look, I'm already volunteering for the job!
> 
> Diego, pulling out a knife: I think the fuck not.
> 
> Ben: *hisses*
> 
> Vanya: *glares*
> 
> Luther: Sorry, but no.
> 
> Allison: I HEARD A RUMOR--


End file.
